


Mechanic

by GirlontheBench



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Cussing, Friendship, Insanity, Junkrat kinda loses it for a second, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Revenge, Violence, dont know if theyre going to be a couple or not yet, kinda Roadrat kinda not, kinda sorta an AU but also not, lots of gore in last few chapters, mechanic AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 21:47:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12517288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlontheBench/pseuds/GirlontheBench
Summary: ***I WROTE THIS LONG BEFORE JUNKERTOWN, WASTELAND AND INFORMATION OF AUSTRALIA'S CURRENT STATE WAS RELEASED, PLEASE KEEP THIS IN MIND AS YOU READ, THANK YOU***A legend has gone around the Outback about a mechanic that could fix anything in the world. Roadhog had heard of this legend and even though he thought it was a bunch of garbage, this mechanic was his last hope. Upon visiting this legend, he's shown that the world was much worst off then he thought. And for the first time in a long time, he offers help to someone.





	Mechanic

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! This story has literally been a year in the making, I started writing it like 3 days after I got Overwatch, which was last November! But it's a year worth of work and love put into it! I havent decided if this is gonna be 3 or 4 chapters but I'll decide soon! I really hope ya'll like it and I'll try to update the other chapters as soon as I can! Thank you so much for the read! Enjoy <3

There's a rumor around the outback, or well whatever is left of the outback. That there’s a single mechanic that lives in the northern part of the country that can fix anything. A gun? Yep. A Car? You bet. A simple small wind up toy? Child's play for this legend. People speak about the mechanic with either complete respect, or total disbelief, depending who you’re talking to. But regardless if they think it’s made up or they’ve actually meet the mechanic, the legend...is well, still a legend. And for a man in need of such a mechanic, he makes his way to the legend’s workshop in the northern part of Australia. 

Mako Rutledge, or better known as Roadhog to those whose skulls he was crushing, had heard about the legendary mechanic many times during his travels across the wasteland that was Australia. He’d been curious of this legend and maybe one day he would let the curiosity get the best of him, and maybe he’d make his way to the legend’s workshop. But he wasn’t going to the mechanic out of pure curiosity, he was going because he needed help. He’s trusty old shot gun had finally kicked the bucket, he’d tried everything, went to any specialist he could find, but no one could save his old friend. So this legend was his last hope. 

He’d been making his way to the mechanic's workshop for about 3 days now, he was about 2 hours outside of the small settlement where the legend's workshop called home. His chopper glided across the sandy wasteland, like it has always done. But he felt something off whenever he shifts gears, that’s something else he would have to ask the mechanic to look at. His mind finally started to ignore the hard shifting as he got closer and closer to the settlement. With his destination getting closer he found himself wondering what this legend would be like, what he would say, look like. Probably a large man much like himself, covered in tattoos and oil. Only spoke in grunts and didn't ask much questions, just kept to himself and worked. Or well at least that’s how he hopped the legend would be. He’d find out soon enough.

Mako had arrived at the small settlement, nothing special, a fews small shacks that were probably considered homes. A diner that wasn't completely destroyed in the explosion. A deep hole, that he had guest at one time was a pond, was filled with garbage and pieces of buildings that had once stood there. A saloon that seemed to be the busiest place in the area, a market with the basic shops. And last but not least a large run down garage.

It stood tall compared to all the other buildings in the settlement, almost like a centerpiece that sat in the back of the settlement. It seemed to once be made of cinderblocks. Yellow paint chipping away underneath the large differnt sizes pieces of metal that were covering the outside of the building. Poorly structured wood held up a large metal roof above the original one, it seemed as if the wind blew it would fall over. Around the garage was random pieces of garbage, a small fenced in area held many different sizes of wheels. An old motorcycle leans against a pulled apart truck right next to a wooden sign with sloppy painted on words reading: “Junkrat’s Junkyard” Catchy, Mako thought. 

Roadhog pulled up infront of the garage, looking the building up and down, taking in the unique peice of shit before him. Mostly all of the buildings in the wasteland were just pieces of other buildings slapped together with screws and prayers that it won't fall on top of anyone who inhabits it. But this building, this garage was different, special somehow. All of the metal that made up the outside wall were different colors, shapes and textures. Some painted different colors, some rusted. Graffiti painted the metal as well, many different little pictures and words littered the metal, making it have an odd artsy feel to it. He liked one in particular, it was a cartoon bomb with a big, wide smile and big bug eyes. It was also the biggest piece of graffiti on the wall, which made it stand out even more. Mako finally took his eyes off of the wall and pulled up his kickstand, letting his bike’s engine finally rest as he turned it off. He glanced into the large open garage, junk and work tables placed everywhere in random places. He could hear a faint sound of music playing inside the large garage,along with the muffled singing of someone. Or at least it sounded like singing, more like a cat dying. 

 

He heaved his leg over his chopper, stopped a moment to pull up his pants, that on anyone else would be a blanket, then started walking into the large open garage. Mako followed the sound of the choking cat, looking around the disaster area that was the legend's work area. He turned a corner, walking into a big open area, a large pieced together sailboat occupied the middle of the room. It's sails were made of stitched together cloths of different colors and length. It's body was mostly wood and broken pieces of fiberglass nailed together, and a half assed paint job was started down one side. Above Roadhog hung large engines from many different machines, held in the air by chains attached to the metal roof. The ground was littered with pieces of garbage, metal and food wrappers. The beat of an old 2010 song became louder and louder as he walked deeper into the room. The ‘singing’ became louder as well, making Mako wish he was hearing nails across a chalkboard instead. 

He finally saw him, the fabled mechanic, the legend...or at least he'd thought so. A tall and scrawny figure sat at a work table, his left hand held a small trinket. While his right, metal hand twisted a screwdriver into it. Mako took a moment to admire the craftsmanship of the arm, it looked strong, well worked on and functional. It seemed to work like a normal arm, the way the metal fingers clenched around the screwdriver in such a natural way. His eyes moved up the metal arm, following the straps until he saw flesh, the skin of his upper arm covered in a tattoo. A skull with TNT sticks arranged like crossbones and smoke, simple and unique all at once. Roadhog looked up and took in the rest of the small man’s appearance, a dirty, oil covered tank top hung from his small frame, large long shorts covered in oil wrapped around his waist. His messy and dirty blonde hair was pulled back into a tiny ponytail with a rubber band, a workmans glove wrapped around his flesh hand. Old combat boots bounce up and down on the floor as he works and sings loudly along with the song. 

Mako laughs softly to himself, this definitely wasn't what he thought this legend would look like, a scrawny little man, with a body he could crush with one hand. He laughs once again before clearing his throat, but the blonde doesn't hear him, just continues to sing and work. Roadhog glances over at the old radio that's playing loudly, he walks over and turns a switch, turning the music off. The tiny man practically falls from his seat as he turns to face the monstrous man, a look of anger and surprise cross his tanned face. His eyes are big and buggy, his irises a brilliant amber, almost like looking into the fire of the man’s soul. His thin lipped mouth was formed in a frown, unkept eyebrows formed an angry scrunched up line across the man's forehead. As he opened his mouth to speak, a gold tooth stuck out amongst his white ones. 

“The hell you think you’re doin mate?!” The man's high pitched yet gravely voice was thickly accented, just as most people who lived here was. Mako huffed inside his mask, the tiny man stood from his metal stool, barely standing at Mako’s shoulders. The blond man puffed out his chest, anger still plastered on his face. “Comin’ in here and turning off me music! You ever heard of knockin!?” The tiny man huffed and placed his hands on his hips, glaring up at Mako. Roadhog could feel the all too familiar burning in his belly, the burning of anger. He took a step towards the tiny man, but he stood his ground, his feet firmly planted to the ground. 

“Listen runt...you couldn't hear me and I don't knock…” Mako’s deep voice even overpowered the blonde, but he still kept his ground. 

“And? You could have like...tapped me or...threw a damn pebble at me! Not turned off me music!” The tiny man growled a bit as he spoke, his anger not calming at all. 

“And throwing a pebble at you isn't rude?” Mako asked trying his hardest to stay angry and not laugh. 

“Well I mean...I-it is but…” The blonde growls and clenches his fists. “Shut it! You're rude!” He sighs softly and crosses his arms over his chest, the metal of his shirt clenching onto his tank top as it flexes. “But besides that what the hell you doin ‘ere?” The anger leaves his face, and Mako takes a step back. Roadhog hasn't exactly gotten off on the right foot with the legend, he hopped he wouldn't have to threaten the tiny man to fix his shotgun. He was always up for making threats, but in all honesty he just wanted his gun to be fixed as soon as possible, and making a threat didn't seem to be the answer right now. But in all honesty the mechanic didn't seem that easy to threat. 

Mako pulled his old shotgun off of his back, holding it in his large hands, the tiny man’s eyes light up as he sees the old put together shotgun. 

“I need you to fix this...I've taken it to everyone, all over and no one can do a damn thing with it.” Roadhog holds it out and the tiny man smiles a big toothy grin. “Oh a shotgun! Changing things up for me mate!” The blonde took the large shotgun from Mako’s hand and walked over to his workbench, placing it on the rusty table. 

The mechanic soon gets to work, looking it over, moving it about, talking quietly to himself. He starts taking it apart and this makes Mako cringe a bit, it made him nervous. That shotgun had been with him since the explosion and his days in the Australian Liberation Front, it was one of his most prized possessions. And this scrawny little freak was taking it apart, piece by piece. 

Mako takes a step close to the tiny man’s work bench, looking over his shoulder, to watch him work frantically, pulling out pieces of metal, detaching a piece of the barrel. It made a shiver go down Roadhog’s spin. 

“So...can you fix it?” Mako finally spoke up, trying his hardest not to snatch what was left of the gun away from the blonde man. “Oh, of course I can...just need a few more...minutes.” He tries to speak through his tunnel vision as he continues to work quickly. Mako watches the legend’s hands, closely, trying to figure out what he was doing to his precious gun. The mechanic starts to piece the gun back together and laughs softly as he finishes his work. “All done Mate!” 

He stands and turns towards Mako, his small hands holding out the shotgun, the owner looks down at it, in confusion. “You...fixed it that fast?” Mako asked, very skeptical as he took his gun from the mechanic’s torn up hands. “Oh, it was simple mate, just had a screw stuck at the tip of the barrel! I took it out so it’s good as new!" The blonde smiled confidently up at Mako. “Trust me, I’m a pro at this mate!” He smiled that toothy grin as Roadhog looks over his shotgun. It looked exactly the same, no damage done to the already half destroyed casing of the gun, duct tape still held the handle to the bottom of the barrel, a three lengthed chain hung from the bottom. All looked well, but that doesn't always mean it is. 

“Well? What ya think? It’s all fixed and ready for action!” The smaller man smiled triumphantly up at Mako, his hands placed on his hips in a victory stance, the sight of the toothy grin pissing him off at a ridiculous rate. Roadhog lets out an angry grunt, his eyes moving back down to his prized possession. “If it ain’t, the first place I’ll be coming is back here to kick your scrawny ass.” Mako glared down at the blonde, who didn't seem fazed by the threat at all. In fact, his toothy grin widened and he let out a loud cackled laugh. This pissed Mako off even more.

“Oh yeah? Oh you’re a mean one mate! But I loke that!” The blonde wipes his metal hand off on his already dirt covered shorts, sticking it out for Mako to shake. “Jamison Fawkes is the name! Most people just call me Junkrat thought!” The small man keeps his hand held out, waiting for one of Mako’s monstrous hands to grasp it. But he ignores the offer of a handshake and simply turns to leave the garage. He didn’t need this ‘Legend’ anymore, so what's the since in shaking his hand? 

“Yeah? Ya sure look like one that’s for sure.” He heard Jamison huff as he made his way back to his bike. He also heard small footsteps follow behind him, making him clench his fist around the handle of his shotgun harder than he normally does. Can’t this scrawny fuck just leave him alone? He’d done his job, now he needs to fuck off. But he doesn't, the little shit fallows Mako out of the garage and out to his Motorcycle. “You sure are rude…” Jamison huffed again, then let out a small growl. “And I don’t look like a rat!” There was a tone of aggravation in the small man’s voice, as if he’d had to defend himself against the name people had given him many times before. 

“They why do they call you a rat…” Mako reaches behind him and places his shotgun in it’s holster on his back, a very well known habit to the large man. Roadhog heaves one of his legs over his chopper, his large body fitting perfectly on the old motorcycle. He glances over at Jamison, well more like glares over at the little shit. “In fact, why do you call yourself a rat?” The smaller man seems taken aback by the question, the fight and anger in his face replaced by confusion, he seemed as if he was actually thinking about why he called himself that. 

There’s a sound of anger and annoyance that comes from the blonde as he bares his teeth at the large man, his gold tooth shimmering against the sunlight. “Listen! It’s just what they call me so I go along with it!” He quickly looks down, his arms crossing over his toned chest. “You know, you’re awfully rude to the person who just saved that hunk of junk you call a gun!” Jamison lets out a huff. 

“You’re a hunk of junk.” Roadhog looks over at the smaller man, his voice deeper with anger then it was before. “And so is everything you own apparently.” Mako looks around the junk surrounding the rodent’s garage, the impressive feel he had when he arrived had disappeared entirely. “I loke all this so called ‘Junk’ so bugger off.” Jamison crossed his arms over his chest, Mako getting a good look at his old metal arm once again. It was orange of all colors, chipped and a bit rusted. “With pleasure Rat…” Roadhog huffed loudly before starting up his chopper, the mechanic tensed a bit as the engine roared to life. His lengthy body moved in front of the old chopper, waving his hands and yelling “Hold on mate! Ya engine sounds like shit!” The skinny man called out to the larger one, making him growl loudly.

“Screw off you Rat! My bike is fine! You’re just fucked in the head! Go see a mechanic for that.” Mako glares over at the smaller man who glares back, his hands grabbing the handlebars quickly, a strong feeling of anger erupting in the monster’s stomach. “No I’m not! Your bike is fucked up! Now get your fatass off of it and let me have a look!” The giant man cut off the engine of his bike before standing from it. His steps loud and angry as he grabbed the small man by the back of his neck, holding him up to his level. Jamison kicked about and growled loudly trying to break free from the freakishly large hand. 

“Who are you calling fat little rodent?” Mako growled loudly as he held Jamison up in the air, the blonde thrashing about and attempting to kick the monstrous man to be freed. “Listen ya fucka! I'm just trying to help you! Put me down!” The rodent of a man continues to move around angrily in the air, his dirty boots barely missing Roadhog’s legs as he kicks and punches towards him. Mako laughed at the tiny man’s fibble attempt to try and hurt him, the way he squirmed and growled every time he kicked and punched reminded him of a small dog for some odd reason. “You sure are yappy...they could call you Junkterrier instead of Junkrat.” Roadhog laughed at his own joke as the smaller man became more frustrated, moving about more aggressively. 

Jamison growls loudly at the insulting name, his legs finally kicking at Mako’s stomach. “I’LL SHOW YOU A TERRIER YOU OVERSIZED BAG OF SHIT!!” The Rat screamed out in anger, his body moving more aggressively towards the Hog, his kicks and punches having more force and anger behind them. The monster still holds the tiny man up in the air with little to no effort, he laughs loudly and shakes his head. “Even if you hit me it just tickles you weak little shit.” The Rat glared up at the Hog, before quickly grabbing onto the hand that held him high off the ground, the lengthy man pulled himself up and bite down into Mako’s wrist hard. Roadhog let out a loud grunt, his hand releasing the blonde quickly, making him fall to the ground with a loud thud. The monster grabbed at his now bleeding wrist, the mark of jagged and sharp teeth deep in his skin. “I’ll bust open your skull for that!! Do you know who I am Rat?!” Mako took a large and threatening step towards Jamison as he frantically got to his feet.

Junkrat bared his bloody teeth at the large man, before spitting the blood out onto the sand. “No! And I don't fucking care who you are either!” Jamie stands his ground as Mako steps closer to him, he leans down, his old leather mask inches away from the mechanic’s face as he breaths out threateningly. “They call me Roadhog.” And just as everyone does when they hear that name, the smaller man’s eyes widened and his skin turned pale. Mako loved it, when he uttered his old and terrifying nickname. It struck the fear of God into everyone in the Outback, including the little tough shit in front of him. He slowly steps back, putting his hands up defensively, a nervous toothy smile crossing his dirty face. 

“O-Oh well um...h-hey there...R-Road-” The blonde’s words are interpreted as the sound of motorcycles suddenly erupt from the other side of the settlement, the look of fear deepening on the tiny man’s face. “Oh fuck me!” To Mako’s utter surprise and utter disgust, the mechanic grabs onto his bleeding arm and attempts to pull him urgently back into his garage. “Come on mate! You godda hide!” Jamison frantically pulled at the monster, trying his damndest to pull him into the trash heap he called a garage. Mako stood completely still, the pulling from the smaller man not fazing him whatsoever. He glanced over towards the other side of the settlement, the small dust cloud being thrown up by an incoming group of motorcycles slowly became bigger, the sound of roaring engines becoming louder as well. 

“I don’t hide from anyone...especially not two bit thugs.” Roadhog huffs loudly, Junkrat pulling on him even harder than before, still not fazing the giant. “Listen mate, you don’t wanna get involved with these blooks! Trust me! I’m doing you a damn favor!” The blonde gave up finally with a loud sigh, before quickly moving behind the large man and pushing against his toned back. His tiny hands pushing with all their might against the back of a monster, but to no avail, Mako staying put as the roaring sound becomes louder. “Just get in the damn garage and don’t come out till I say so!” Jamison pleads with Mako, but the monster simply glared back at him and spoke angrily. “I don’t run from anyone...so get your dirty hands off of me.” Roadhog turned towards Junkrat, who let out a loud sound of aggravation. 

“Mate for the love of Christ just listen to me! Now get your fat a-” Jamison froze in terror as the group of 7 Junkers pull up to the garage, their loud bikes making the ground shake violently. The blonde turned towards them quickly. The mechanic stood at attention as the group turned off their bikes one by one, the largest and most intimidating of the group smiles at Junkrat as he laughs softly. “Jamison! So nice to see you my skinny friend!” The weasel of a man smirked at the small man, who was trying his hardest to disappear as he spoke so quietly it was almost a whisper. “Yeah...real nice Dwight…” 

The surprisingly tall man stood at Roadhog’s chin, his matted dark hair was pulled back by a dirty red bandanna. Light menacing eyes glanced up at Mako with a broken and evil smile. “Oh! You got a customer Jamison! That means you get some money for me?” Dwight smiled up at Roadhog as he stood with his tanned arms over his chest. Jamison looked up at Mako, his eyes still full of terror but still being able to contain it. “I ain’t done servicin’ him yet...so he doesn't owe me a cent.” There was a stern tone in the Rat’s voice, almost like he was trying to stand up for himself even in the smallest of ways. The bully of a man took a threatening step towards Jamie, who stepped closer to Roadhog out of fear and hope of protection. “Well then get on it you little smart ass! You owe me a lot of money this week!” Dwight’s tone was laced with authority and threats, almost as if he owned Junkrat, like some sort of pet. For some odd reason that burned angrily in Mako’s stomach, the way this weasel spoke to the Rat. Jamison quickly turned into his garage, to gather tools for his short tune up on Roadhog’s motorcycle, leaving the Hog and the Weasel's gang alone. 

“Never seen a blook your size! Bet you can beat down an army can’t ya big guy?” Dwight stepped towards Roadhog as if they were old bar buddies, making the anger boil hotter inside Mako’s stomach. “Yeah...probably take you and your little gang out in less than 5 minutes if I wanted to.” The Hog grunted as he finished speaking, Dwight smiling deviously and chuckling as his gang did the same. “Oh Yeah? You gonna try it big fella? Cuz me and my boys are awfully bored today...and I don’t think they’d be satisfied with just kicking Jamison’s ass. We do that about once a week, so it gets real boring.” Roadhog wanted nothing more then to punch this little shit’s skull in as he smiled at the thought of beating Junkrat into a pulp, he held his fists and anger back the best he could. The tension between the hog and the small gang was interrupted by the mechanic dropping a tool bag, the metal tools loudly clanging together as they spread out across the sandy ground. 

“Hey dumbass! I’m trying to talk to my new friend here! Keep it down or I’ll shove my boot up your arse!” Dwight stepped towards Jamie, Roadhog’s hand clenching onto his shoulder, making him stop suddenly and glance back at the monster. “Leave him be...He’s working on my bike…” Mako’s voice was surprisingly calm yet threatening all at once. Dwight’s smile disappears as he shrugged away the large hand off his shoulder, turning to face the Hog. Jamison stopped trying to gather his tools, looking at Mako with utter shock and fear for his well being, He knew what Dwight and his band of thugs were capable of, he knew it all to well. 

“Listen...pal. You really don’t wanna test me. I’ll show you what happens to people that fuck with me…” The weasel stuck his long and muscular arm out towards Jamie, curling his long finger to summon the Rat to him. “Come here Jamison….show him what happens…” Jamison as a whole, turned into this sad little damaged being, Mako could feel it, see it on the broken look on his dirty face. He looked almost like a whole other person as he worked at the straps of his mechanical arm, unstrapping his replacement limb. 

‘You godda be fucking kidding me…” Mako thought as Jamison pulled off his mechanical arm, showing a deformed nub of what used to be an arm. Damaged and jagged skin pulled back and cauterized unprofessional into what was left of his arm. The end was scared with long removed stitches and dead skin, it looked as if it was cut clean off right above the elbow that used to be. Jamie looked away as Mako examined it in disbelief, the weasel looked over at it as well, with unbelievable pride. Mako hadn’t been this angry in years. The world was full of assholes like this, ones who only hurt people because they could. They took what they wanted just because they could. Even if it was limbs.

“That’s what happens, little Jamison here decided to skip out on a payment a couple months ago and well...If I want something and I don’t get it, I just take something else! So you play nice, give me what I want and follow my rules...or this happens.” Dwight chuckled softly as Jamison pulled away from the group of men now laughing at his life changing deformity, his single arm moving as quickly as possible to reassemble himself. “I’m not scared of you...so stop trying to act all fucking tough. You don’t own me and you never will.” Roadhog let his anger slowly take him over, as he stepped closer to the weasel who scuttled back towards his men, the big tough look on his face disappearing. The large monster of a man motivated by anger scared anyone, even a big gang leader like Dwight. All Mako wanted to do was tear these men apart, but he didn’t have the energy and for some fuck off reason he was concerned about Jamison getting hurt in the crossfire. He’d have to deal with that garbage later.

“Now you leave me and the Rat here alone...while he fixes my bike..unless you all wanna go home with missing limbs…” Anger. That’s all his voice was filled with when he made the threat, but you could tell it was actually a promise. Dwight narrowed his eyes and growled softly as he turned towards his bike, his men doing the same. “Fine you sack of lard….I’ll be back tomorrow for my money Rat! You hear me!” Engines roar loudly and dirt is kicked up into the air once again as the gang of Junkers take off down the hill and slowly disappear from the sight of the settlement, gone as quickly as they appeared. Mako lets out a long and angry sigh, calming himself enough to turn to the still shaking Rat, who looked up at him with thankful eyes.

“Thanks for that mate….that Dwight is a huge thorn in my side…” Jamison held onto his mechanical arm self consciously, his being slowly returning to normal as he realized one of the biggest threats to him was finally gone. 

“I don’t like asshole bully’s….he probably has the smallest dick in the outback.” Jamie laughed loudly, surprising Mako at how loud and genuine it was. This man probably doesn't talk to a lot of people, He was sure his presents made the Rat’s day and a joke like that made his week. “Probably right about that one, mate!” Junkrat finally responded after his short laugh section. The mechanic turned back to his tools scattered across the ground, picking them up and returning them to their tool box.

“Better get workin’ on your bike then...It’s gonna get dark soon.” Jamison stopped and looked up at the monster of a man, who stepped towards him. “No need for that Rat...were gonna take care of those assholes.” Junkrat nearly fall flat on his face as he stood quickly, disbelief and utter shock plastered on his freckled face. 

“Were what?! M-Mate you can’t be serious! They got loads of security and guards dogs! Big huge watchtowers! There ain’t no way we could make it in!” The blonde began to pace a bit, shaking his head and running his flesh hand through what was left of his blonde hair. “Why the hell would you want to do this? I-I don’t even know you! You’re gonna get ya self killed!” Jamison’s voice was begging for questions to be answered by the big man. “They took your arm. That’s not right...they godda pay…” That was it. Or at least all that Mako wanted to tell him. He didn’t want to bring up that he was starting to care about the little shit for literally no reason. Maybe he just felt bad for him. Maybe he was just sick of seeing pricks like Dwight thinking they rule the world out here. Maybe, who fuckin knew. 

“I mean maybe if we make a plan! And sneak into the back….try and take out the watch m-” Roadhog pointed at Junkrat’s right arm, orange painted metal barely shimmering against the light of the setting sun. The worry quickly left Junkrat’s face and it was replaced with almost an evil grin as he began to chuckle softly to himself. 

“Alright mate, Just promise me...you’ll let me deal with Dwight.”

“You got a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure ya'll can tell where the cut off was when I stopped and started writing this story again. Sorry if you didn't enjoy it, but I do appreciate the time you took to read it! Chapter 2 will be out as soon as I can get around to it, I promise! Thank you again! <3


End file.
